


Undone

by BlueEyesBlueSkies



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6606862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyesBlueSkies/pseuds/BlueEyesBlueSkies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon/Original Character. Claire was running, desperate, trying to escape once again. Daryl rescues her without even knowing it, but after Beth, wounds run deep. Will they heal each other, or will they come undone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I’m the author of this story. The Walking Dead is the source of the original work. Daryl Dixon/OC fantasy. I don’t know Daryl Dixon, do not own the character Daryl Dixon, and do not mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. This story is simply intended for enjoyment of the readers. Please don’t sue me!

He came out of the woods to cross the gravel road and make is way back to the others. Covered in sweat and pissed as hell. Not a damn thing, for the sixth day in a row. If he didn’t find meat soon they were gonna starve. 

He glanced up to his left as he carefully crossed, stepping so lightly not even the gravel crunched under his booted feet. About to sweep back to his right, something caught his eye. Tracks.

Daryl cautiously approached, ears twitching like a hare’s as he scanned the woods around him. Drag marks. Walker slides. Three walkers, he was certain. Maybe four people. He shook his head. No way in hell they were still alive. As he turned to make his way back, his eye caught on a pop of pink. Lit up by a sunbeam. 

His heart thumped, and he felt his stomach roll. It’s not Beth, he told himself. You saw her die, carried her out and buried her. It’s not Beth. But he found himself picking his way towards her through the brush. 

She was lying on her stomach, sprawled forward, arms reaching. Her hands were bound with rope. Blonde waves cascaded, masking her face. A deep red stain in her hair. He saw her chest rise and fall in small spurts. Slowly, Daryl rolled her over with his boot. The face of the angel just about took his breath away, and he stared down at her with a steely gaze before scanning their surroundings. 

Walker tracks moved on through the woods, following two more people. Big boot prints, it looked like. Daryl spat, looking back to the bound wrists. He didn’t think twice as he scooped her into his arms, quietly retreating into the woods. He looked down at her, sun filtering through the trees and lighting her face. He gulped, thinking back to the last time he held a small blond in his arms like this, his stomach tying into knots. 

Nearing the temporary camp, he purposely made his steps heavier, snapping twigs and rustling leaves as he approached. Sure as shit wasn’t gonna just walk in like last time. Daryl could move like a ghost when he wanted, but coming face to face with Carl’s loaded pistol wasn’t a thing he’d like to repeat. Little shit mighta shot him with that thing. 

They were sitting round the campfire when he approached, silent, solemn. Maggie raised her eyes and gasped, mouth falling open. He met her eyes and firmly shook his head once. No, he was telling her. Not Beth. Beth is gone. 

“What the hell, Daryl?” Carl whined at him. “You can’t bring us any food, but you can bring us another mouth to feed?”

Daryl narrowed his eyes and snarled at him as he set her down gently on the grass next to the fire. She was ice cold to the touch, but he could still see the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her breath was a sharp staccato, hitched and labored. But she was breathing. She was alive.

Rick waved Carl off. “He has a point, you know.” He stared harshly at Daryl, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Could’n leave her.” He said simply. 

Rick nodded once, his eyes hard. It was what it was.

Maggie swallowed and came around the fire. She knelt down, brushing the matted hair off her face. She raised her hands gently to her neck. “She has a pulse. It’s slow, but strong.”

Maggie’s eyes travelled down, taking in her faded pink tee, worn out skinny jeans, and small work boots. Her shirt was stained with blood. Her jeans were so thin and ragged Daryl could see little strips of skin peaking out, glimpses of porcelain through a curtain of beaten blue. 

Maggie gently touched her wrists, pity and concern in her eyes, then flicked her knife to break the tie. She tried to pull back the rope, but crusts of blood and skin held it tight. She rinsed a little water on it, trying her best to gingerly pry the strands out of where it was worn into the girl’s skin. As she was able to lift off part of the rope, she gasped. 

Girl must have been bound for a while, Daryl thought. Her wrists were beyond raw. They were gashed, and shredded, with red sores oozing. Her skin worn down so deep you could almost see the bone. 

Maggie gently placed her wrists back on her lap, then moved up to look at her head. “Just a scrape. Head wounds bleed worse, but she should heal up just fine without stitches,” she said softly, eyes full of concern. 

Daryl pulled his thumb into his mouth and worked on the nail bed, watching as Maggie gently rinsed the blood out of her hair, wiping the dirt out of the raw skin. By the last rays of sunlight, Maggie wiped the dirt off her face, tenderly cooling the hot skin. With her face clean and clear, Daryl could see she was older than he thought at first. Maybe mid-twenties, thirty at the most. Her skin looked soft, smooth; her lips pink, full.

“Have to bandage up her wrists as best we can. They may become infected, but we’ll just do what we can.” Glenn nodded and went to fetch the little bit of clean cloth they had left.

Maggie took a small hand in hers and poured a bit of water into the sores on her wrist. With a strangled cry, she bucked awake, snatching her hands back and sliding back away from the fire. Her eyes were wide, racing, trying to take it in but unable to focus. She panted hard, and her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. 

Faces, so many faces. None she knew. None were dead. Her eyes flitted rapidly, she reached her hands down to find a weapon, anything. Then she felt it. Searing pain, throbbing in her wrists and hands. She looked down. Her hands. She wasn’t bound anymore. 

“We need to clean your wrists before they become infected.” She glanced up towards the soft voice, meeting the kind eyes in her panicked gaze. The woman was reaching towards her slowly, one hand outstretched, a bottle of water in the other. “I’m Maggie,” she said. 

“Claire,” she croaked, her throat cracking painfully. 

“Hi, Claire,” Maggie smiled gently. “May I see your wrists, please?” 

Claire’s eyes fluttered around again, taking in the people. She didn’t see them, either of the men who took her, who hurt her. She gave a small nod, and squeezed her eyes shut. 

Maggie took her wrist again, pouring the water and trying her best to carefully rinse the dirt and bits of rope out of the tears in her skin. Claire clenched her teeth, exhaling a grunt through her nose, eyes still squeezed shut.

Daryl switched thumbs while he watched, working on the other nail bed. He was impressed in spite of himself. He’d had enough gashes from his daddy to know that hurt like hell, but she barely made a sound. 

Claire’s eyes opened suddenly, gaze trapping his, catching him staring. Blue, with flecks of gold and green dancing on the edges, he noticed in the flickering of the campfire. His eyes narrowed as he stood there, frozen. Trapped. Drowning. 

Rick knelt in front of her, and she jumped, the spell broken. “I’m Rick, and this is my son Carl, Daryl, Michonne, Carol, Glenn, and you’ve met Maggie. Rest tonight, and we will talk in the mornin’.” 

Claire nodded and closed her eyes as Maggie finished cleaning her wounds. She bound fabric around each wrist tightly. “We’ll change these every few days as we can, and rinse the wounds every day. Can you use your hands?” 

Claire wiggled her fingers, and clenched two firm fists. Maggie patted her leg. “Good, then. We don’t have any food, but you can finish the little bit of water in that bottle. Get some rest.” With that, she walked off. 

Claire scooted back against the tree behind her, resting her throbbing head against the rough bark. She looked down over her wrists, now wrapped up tight, over her bloodstained shirt and jeans, and sighed. She heard the others moving around her, going back about their business, settling in for the night. She felt a prickling move across her skin, and glanced up, straight into those hard blue eyes, watching her across the flickering firelight. As she slowly drifted off the sleep, those eyes danced through her mind and into her dreams.


	2. Alone

If he hadn’t watched her so close he would have missed it at first. She was dreaming, the muscles in her face barely twitching in the dim light of the fire, half her face in shadow. The rise and fall of her chest sped up, her fingers flickering, eyelashes fluttering. 

He felt Michonne come up behind him, rested and ready to take his place on watch. This was their routine; he always taking the first shift, she taking the second. The others thought they were just night owls, comfortable in the woods. Daryl knew the truth though. Michonne was like him. Haunted by ghosts of the past coming back for vengeance through dreams. 

Michonne followed his eyes towards Claire as she sat off to his right, watching her face continue to flicker, her limbs start to thrash. She was kicking, fighting off some demon in her head. “Think we should wake her?” She asked him, eyes moving back, taking in the curling tendrils of flames, shades of orange and blue, dancing in the dark.

He grunted, made a small shake of his head. “Don’t know how she wakes up.”

Michonne nodded, a small smile playing on her face. “Rather not have a knife in my face right now, anyways.”

He snorted and returned her smile. It happened a few nights ago. Daryl always had nightmares, they were a nightly occurrence for as long as he could remember, maybe even as long as he’d been alive. Too many ghosts in his past for him to sleep soundly. But the other night was especially bad as he’d fought yet again to try to save Beth, try to reach her before she was dragged into that car. Michonne shook his shoulder, trying to pull him out of it. He thanked her with a knife to her throat, eyes wild, body shaking. She held his eyes, didn’t say a word, and slowly pushed it down and away from her as he caught his breath. He’d tried to apologize, but she waved him off. She had her fair share of ghosts, too.

Claire suddenly shot straight up, interrupting his thoughts, arms held close together as if her wrists were still bound, panting heavily as her gaze met his across the fire. Her eyes raced left to take in her surroundings, meeting Michonne’s. Scanned right, out into the night, before returning, centering on those flames, still dancing, licking at the dark. He watched as she breathed deep, one, two, three times, her chest pushing up farther, sinking back down further each time.

She slid her gaze down to her wrists, still pressed tightly together, and Daryl watched as her face hardened, gaze turning into stone. Any fear was long gone, replaced by anger, and something else he couldn’t quite read. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled. She brought her hands up, still pressed together tighter than ever. Slowly, for what felt like minutes, she pulled her hands apart, eyes hard, face a mask, bringing her palms to rest face down on her knees, legs crossed. She exhaled heavily, nostrils flaring once again, and closed her eyes softly as she turned her face to the flames. 

Daryl felt himself breathe out strongly, and realized he’d been holding his breath with her. He glanced at Michonne, meeting her gaze and nodding once, before rising to find a spot a ways away to rest for a few hours until dawn. His gaze fell over Claire, mind whirring as he walked away.

“Tell me,” Michonne said quietly, carefully keeping her eyes turned towards the fire.

Claire threw a leaf on the blaze, watching as it was consumed, tendrils of smoke drifting up in the air as the flames kissed it once, twice, three times, before turning it to ash. 

“We were set up in our hunting cabin about 30 miles West of here, living off the land, thriving really. I heard my son’s first words, watched him take his first steps.” A ghost of a smile flashed across her face as her voice broke, thinking back, the smile gone again just as quickly as it came. 

Michonne nodded and said nothing, tossing on a fresh log and continued to watch the flames. 

“We were happy, the three of us, living in that little cabin in the middle of nowhere, living off the land. We had our run-ins with the dead, sure, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Nothing we couldn’t face together.” Claire tossed on another leaf, watched the colors fade to gray, watched it crumble away into dust.

Claire sighed. “We were content.” Her eyes hardened again. “They came one day as I watched my son pick his first tomato off the vine. Faces smiling while they picked their way over our traps. Jake had his back turned to pick up his shot gun.”

Claire swallowed, and Michonne turned to look at her face. “I watched his brains splatter against our front door, blood painting the wood red. It was just a second, a mere moment I hesitated, standing there watching as Jake fell.”

Michonne saw Claire’s eyes well, and felt her skin crawl picturing it. “I heard it, felt it, tasted it, before I saw it. Warm, and wet. Copper.” Claire swallowed and spoke slowly, her eyes seeing it all over again. “Peter fell into my arms. Where his face had been just two seconds before, I could see clear through to the trees.”

They were quiet for a long time, eyes turned towards the fire, the silence weighted by Claire’s sorrow, guilt, and even shame.

“They took you.” It wasn’t a question. Michonne’s tone was flat, firm. 

Claire drug her eyes away finally, glancing over at Michonne, and gave a small nod. 

“How long?”

Claire shrugged. “Long enough.” 

Michonne nodded. 

Hours later as the others stirred, they were still sitting there, watching the flames. Michonne caught Rick’s gaze, jerked her head to the side as he approached, and got up to meet him a ways off. Carol brought Claire a bit of water and smiled warmly. “Not much, but it’s what we got.” 

Rick came up as she finished off the bottle, and the others gathered around the fire. “We should stay here another night or two before we move on. Need to eat. I want to send two groups out to hunt today. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, you head East.” 

Carl looked down at Claire. “You’re gonna need to earn your keep, sooner or later.” 

“Y’know how to hunt?” Rick asked her, voice still gruff with sleep. 

Claire made a little nod, then stood, feeling the fog of the morning roll around her, clinging to the hairs on her arms. 

“You better hope you find something,” Carl spat out. 

Michonne spoke up behind him. “It’s a good thing you’re going with her, you’ll be able to make sure.” Her voice was hard, firm.

Carl’s eyes flashed as he started to protest. “Not sure just the two of them should go out, alone,” Rick drawled, eyes flashing towards Michonne.

Daryl heard himself speaking before his mind could catch up and shut up his damn mouth. “I’ll go with ‘em.” 

Rick looked at him hard, then nodded. “Alright then, it’s settled.” Turning back towards Claire, he asked her what she wanted to hunt with. “Not sure I’m comfortable giving you a gun yet, and we don’t have much ammo anyways.”

“Need three sharp knives. Don’t need a gun,” she answered, eyes flat, face hard and damp from the dew.

Even Daryl’s eyes flickered with surprise at that, but Carol went off to gather up the knives. Carl snickered. “Why three?”

She turned her eyes towards him, and Daryl saw a flicker of fire sparkle in them, so small and quick if he’da blinked he’da missed it. “One for walkers, as you call them, and one for whatever we track down,” she said, voice soft but firm.

“And the third?” Carl probed, cocking his head, crossing his arms.

“One for me,” her voice turned hard, cold. She slid past him, out of the circle of watching eyes, and made her way off towards Carol.

The three of them picked their way off towards a game trail Daryl spied as he brought Claire into camp yesterday. Daryl led, footsteps quiet, gliding over the forest floor. Claire followed, just a hair noisier, while Carl stomped behind her. 

He was talking, babbling to her about all he’d done, the walkers he’d killed, people too. She was silent, following Daryl’s footsteps so well he couldn’t help but be impressed. If he couldn’t feel her behind him, he may not know she was there at all. 

“You’re lucky it was Daryl who found you, and not me,” Carl drawled, pitching his voice deeper. 

Claire grunted but kept walking, steps light as a feather over the brush and fallen leaves, eyes scanning for fresh tracks.

“If it were me, I woulda left you for dead.”

“That’s enough,” Daryl ground out. “Scarin’ anything alive away with all your yappin’. Quit stompin, too.”

He heard a stick crack behind him as brush shuffled. Daryl spun around, drawing up his crossbow as he scanned with narrowed eyes.

Claire was half a breath faster, and before he could pull the trigger he watched as her arm flashed, wrist flicking, hand releasing. Carl’s hair fluttered as the steel whipped by him, landing with a soft thunk into the rotten corpse just coming out of the trees behind him. 

Carl’s eyes went wide, and he stuttered as he turned, watching as the walker collapsed a few yards away, blade thrumming as it rested dead center between the eyes. 

Claire stalked past and retrieved her knife, wiping the blade on the leaves before striding right up to him, pulling her shoulders back, head held high, looking down her nose. Carl had to strain his head back to hold her gaze. 

“Good thing I’ve got better judgment.” Her eyes were hard as she pushed past him, but when her gaze traveled up to his, Daryl saw them flicker, a bit of sparkle twinkling out at him. 

He didn’t even try to stop the corner of his mouth from turning up, eyes sparkling right back at her. 

A ghost of a smile crossed her face as she silently glided past him, leading them further into the woods.


	3. Lost Boy

“Same dream?” Michonne asked Claire softly, sitting next to her around the fire once again, eyes carefully averted from her face.

Claire nodded, struggling to slow her breathing as sweat pooled on her brow. “I always reach for Peter as he’s falling in front of me, but can never quite catch him before I wake up,” she forced out, chest heaving as she took in shaky breaths. 

“It’ll fade, over time. Good dreams will start to creep in as your heart heals. Trust me, I know,” Michonne shivered slightly, thinking back to her own tortuous nightmares of the past after the turn. 

They sat in quiet for a few minutes, each one thinking on the ghosts long buried that seemed to come back to life in the darkness of the night. Claire’s breathing slowed as she forced the memories back down, memories of Jake and Peter, of the men who took her, of anything at all, just trying to clear her head. 

“So you’re headed back out at first light?” 

Claire was grateful for the distraction, her mind grasping on to it as a lifeline out of the waves of emotion coursing through her. “Found some deer tracks that seemed pretty fresh, but by the time we came across them we were losing the light.” She sighed heavily. “Hoping to leave just before dawn, but with a day lost its possible we will be out for a night or so tracking. I think we’re in agreement Carl should stay back this time; makes me nervous keeping him away from Rick for that long.” 

Michonne nodded in agreement and smirked. “Probably doesn’t help he’s a long way from quiet in the woods still, huh?” 

Claire couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Isn’t that the truth,” she smirked. 

Michonne shook her head and sighed. “I’ll take him out with me the other direction, tell him I need his help tracking down an alternative. Rick won’t mind, and it’ll give him a chance to practice.”

Claire smiled softly. Her eyes dotted across the fire as she heard a rustling right outside the ring of light. Reaching for her knife, Michonne called her off. “It’s just Daryl, I can see him kicking a bit. He knows his fair share about demons in the night, too.”

Claire’s eyes peered into the darkness, but she couldn’t make out much beyond the shape of the tree he was under. “Think we should wake him?” She asked softly.

Michonne smirked. “I just had this conversation with Daryl last night about you.” She sighed heavily and shook her head. “Last time I woke him he about slit my throat, so I wouldn’t recommend it.” 

A small hm of sadness left her throat as Claire shook her head, her eyes sad. She threw a log on the fire, and threw the sparks that shot upwards as it caught finally saw him. Daryl was curled up, fists bawled up tight, with sweat dripping down his face as his body shook. She bit her lip, and before she could talk herself out of it she found herself carefully making her way over to sit beside him, her back against the tree. She looked down on his face, and watched a bead of sweat slowly make its way from his eyebrow down to his ear, before trickling into his greasy hair. For the first time since her family was taken, Claire felt her heart start to soften.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He was running, running as fast as his legs could carry him as the black car sped off, gravel and dust flying from the peel of the tires. He had to follow, had to catch it and catch her and save her before the took her again, took her forever. Running, running, running through the night, until he reached a clearing where the car was parked. 

“Beth” he called, seeing her pale body in the moonlight as a man stood behind her, gun loaded, barrel pointed at her head behind her. 

Daryl cocked his bow, aimed, but before he could fire she was falling, eyes blank, falling towards him and into the Earth where she was swallowed whole. He fell to his knees, slamming his fists to the ground before tossing his head back to the sky to scream, “Why her? Why Beth?” 

Brightness lit the sky, warmth and light flooding down towards him, racing in a beam, so bright he couldn’t see and had to shield his face. He felt it roll over him, the heat warming down into his bones, chasing out the darkness and pain he had felt just moments before pulsing through his chest. Eyes shut tight, he reached out towards it, tried to catch the warmth and hold it close, hold it tight so it couldn’t leave him alone. Words started to fall around him, ringing in his ears, soothing his very soul as he reached out, grasping, grasping, until his hands finally caught it, a little ball of warmth, so soft, so delicate he pulled it close to his chest as his heart finally slowed. He sighed, pulled that little ball closer to his chest, trying to make out the words floating down around him.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Claire felt it the moment Daryl woke, the very second his breathing hitched, his body stilled, and his heart started to pound. She missed a beat as her breath caught, but kept her eyes averted, not ready to look down and meet that steely gaze, not yet. 

He was clutching her hands to his chest, his own clasped so gently around hers it made her ache. She waited a few beats more, then resumed the chorus as he laid their, his body tense and still, but still holding her own small hands in his.

“I am a lost boy from Neverland  
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan  
And when we're bored we play in the woods  
Always on the run from Captain Hook  
"Run, run, lost boy," they say to me,  
"Away from all of reality."

Neverland is home to lost boys like me  
And lost boys like me are free.”

Daryl kept his eyes shut, letting her voice fall over him, soft and strong like the woman herself. He caught his breath, trying to keep his body still and pretend he was still asleep, but he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She let him pretend though, and he kept her hands close, wrapped up tight in his, soaking in the warmth of her, the soothing tone of her voice, warm and thick like honey, shrouding him in a cocoon, easing the aches in his soul. 

He lay there long after she finished the song, soaking in every bit of what she had to give. For once, the voices in his mind were quiet, and he had the space to just be, just exist. He listened to her breathing softly beside him, felt her pulse flutter in the wrists he still held close to his chest, felt it pick up and start to race as he gently squeezed, running his rough thumb lightly over the knuckles of one hand. He thought she’d pull away then and there as her breath hitched, as her body tensed beside him. 

Claire’s mind was racing, heart thudding so loud she was sure the whole camp heard it, beating like a drum away in her chest as Daryl ran his thumb over the back of her hand, calloused skin lightly grazing against her, sending tingles up her spine. She swallowed hard, but couldn’t help the thundering in her chest, and god help her, she didn’t want to. Didn’t want to stop the shivers he was sending over her, didn’t want to stop the little sliver of warmth she felt creeping into her chest. 

The stirring of someone off in camp was what finally broke the moment, pulling them out of their thoughts and back into the reality of the situation. Daryl gave her hand one final squeeze before slipping away and getting up to move off to find breakfast. She sighed, then stretched and rose herself. Michonne glanced over, meeting Claire’s eyes, and couldn’t quite believe the smile she saw in the eyes staring back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> I’m the author of this story. The Walking Dead is the source of the original work. Daryl Dixon/OC fantasy. I don’t know Daryl Dixon, do not own the character Daryl Dixon, and do not mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. The lyrics in this chapter are from the song Lost Boy by Ruth B. I do not have any rights to the lyrics of Lost Boy. This story is simply intended for enjoyment of the readers. Please don’t sue me!


	4. Chapter 4

They were farther out than Daryl wanted to be from camp and nearing nightfall by the time they closed in on the buck near a stream. They’d tracked him all day through the woods in comfortable silence, and Daryl was a little surprised by how at ease he felt with Claire. The woods were his comfort zone, his safe space, the place where he could finally breathe, rest easy. And there she was all day, walking along, and resting easy beside him. 

He was glad she didn’t bring up what happened early this morning, with the handholding and the song. He smiled a little thinking about the feel of her soft hand in his, and the words of the song she had sang to him to call him out of his nightmare. Lost boy… He snorted and shook his head. He ain’t been a boy in a long ass time. Lost maybe, he might give her that one, but he’d been through way too much shit growing up to feel like anything other than an old ass man. 

She turned to him and held her finger to her lips, her eyes questioning at the sound of his snort. He shook his head and opened his mouth before she widened her eyes, pressing her finger tighter to her lips and jerking her head to the right behind her. He closed his mouth and looked around past her, scanning before finally settling on the buck at the stream. Shit. He was so caught up in his own head he almost spooked the very thing that had them out here in the first place. 

They crept through the woods quietly, moving like one unit as the scanned the banks and trees, looking for walkers or other signs of people. He whistled softly to her and when she met his eyes he nodded towards the deer. You, or me? 

Claire pointed to him, knowing what he was asking instantly without the need for words. He nodded and looked down the crossbow, letting the arrow fly. She smiled and clapped him on the back as the buck went down clean into the stream. 

Daryl couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he blushed under her smile, but seeing her looking at him like that made him anxious. He just nodded once then stomped roughly out of the woods and down to the stream to gut the buck so they could start back. Just as he was pulling the arrow out he heard the snap of twigs and Claire’s strangled gasp behind him. He whipped around to see a hand clamp over her mouth, a second hand pushing a knife up to her throat, while another man walked out towards him with a gun pointed at his chest. 

Daryl held his hands up in the air, scanning his eyes quickly over the two men before briefly bringing his eyes up to meet Claire’s. They were wild, terrified, and when he noticed she was trembling ice shot down into the pit of his stomach. 

“Don’t want know trouble,” he said, turning his eyes back to the man in front of him. “Just tryin’ to get some food for our people.”

The man’s eyes were cold, hard and unyielding. He nodded towards the buck. “You can keep him. We lost our little birdie here, thanks for taking care of her. We’ll be on our way now.” Daryl swung his eyes back to Claire and saw her whole body shaking. Her eyes welled as the man holding her pressed his knife into her neck further then slid it down, pricking the skin and drawing a line of blood across her smooth skin. 

He saw red then, and before he could think he was charging them, the man with the gun completely forgotten. She bucked and kicked, trying to reach towards him, shaking her head hard, eyes bright with fear. Just as he remembered the first guy and turned towards him, he felt a sharp crack on the back of his head. Claire felt her tears roll as she watched Daryl crumple into a heap in the stream.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
They’d bound her tight and dragged her and Daryl for what felt like hours until they set up a little camp, tying him to a tree. He still hadn’t woken up, and Claire was sick watching the blood drip down from the back of his head to his neck. She fought the bile rising in her throat as looked at his drooped head, hair completely covering his face. It was only the slight rise and fall of his chest that kept her present and grounded. She’d be damned if these men killed anyone else in front of her, not again. 

Claire worked at the wire they’d tied her wrists together with, saying a silent prayer they’d not only bound her hands in front of her, but they’d even left her bandages around her wrists. The pain was unbearable as it was, without having to feel wire digging into her barely healing wounds. But from this position she could reach the knife she’d tucked into the boot of her shoe if she was careful and quick about it. They’d searched them both thoroughly, sure, but she’d hid that third knife Rick had given her under the sole of her boot, and they’d missed it. Her nerves steeled as she thought about sinking the steel into their throats. They weren’t getting out of this alive this time. 

Keeping an eye on their captors, Claire started to softly hum Daryl’s song to him, the one from last night. She sang just loudly enough for the melody to reach his ears, while she worked on getting the knife out of her boot. Just as she was about to finish and start the song again, he kicked and jerked his head up, blinking his eyes open at her. 

She watched the panic flair in his eyes as he pulled tight against the rope, and she raised her bound hands quickly to place a finger to her lips. He nodded, eyes flicking over to take in their captors, lounging and cooking squirrel by the fire as they shared a bottle of whisky. He turned back towards Claire and saw the knife flash out of her boot by the dim light of the moon overhead. He watched as she worked through the wire, but was confused when she fastened it a bit to keep it so her hands were still bound. 

“Horace, looks like our fair maiden’s prince charming woke up,” the one with the gun yelled loudly, pointing at Daryl and letting out a harsh laugh. Daryl turned back to Claire but saw the knife wasn’t in her hands any longer. Before he could meet her eyes she was yelling back towards them.

“Let this redneck go, it’s me you want anyways. He’s nothing to you, and I’ll take real good care of you if you just let him be,” she hollered, voice strong but he could detect the slight tremor in it. What the hell was she doing? 

The first one, he wasn’t sure his name yet, cackled at that, and his face turned into a sneer as he sauntered up towards them. He reached down and yanked Claire up by her hair, jerking her so hard her legs kicked out, kicking up leaves and rocks as he pulled her over by the fire. 

Daryl heard something thunk against the tree when she first kicked up, and just barely managed to keep his eyes up while they pulled her away before looking down. Warmth chased out some of the cold that had pooled in his belly as he saw the knife quivering in the trunk of the tree, already severing the first circle of rope surrounding him. Adrenaline rushed through him as he wiggled to work the knife over the remainder of the ropes, and Daryl steeled his nerves as he Horace force Claire to her knees in front of him. 

Horace unzipped his fly and thrust his cock out towards her face, slapping her hard when she turned away. Claire flew back, glancing back towards Daryl as she did, and as she met his eyes he nodded at her. He was ready. 

Horace yanked Claire back to him while Walter stood and watched, licking his lips and sneering as he waited to take his turn with her. His eyes widened at the flash of flames licking past his face before colliding against the side of Horace’s skull with a sickening crack. He reached for his gun but before he could get it out of the holster, he felt the cold press of steel into his throat. 

Daryl didn’t hesitate as he slammed the knife into Walter’s neck, not even bothering to watch his body fall as blood bubbled up out of his mouth, dripping down his face. He yanked the knife back out and turned to help Claire, the smell of burning hair and flesh turning his stomach further. 

After the first smack against Horace’s face, Claire didn’t hesitate to pick up another log and hit him again, feeling a mixture of horror and triumph as she watched his hair and shirt catch fire. She continued to beat him with the log as he screamed and tried to pat out the flames, attempting to hold his arms up to block her swings. 

“Here,” Daryl yelled, tossing the knife to her. Claire caught it with ease, dropping the log and not missing a moment before plunging the knife down into Horace’s skull. She continued to stab the knife into his neck and chest, over and over, dimly hearing a scream from somewhere behind her. It wasn’t until she felt strong arms wrap around her own that she recognized it. The scream was coming from her. 

Daryl crushed her to him and held her, wiping Horace’s blood away from her face, noting she was covered in it from her hair to her boots. He whispered soft sounds of encouragement into her ear as he rubbed her back and held her, and she collapsed into him with a sob. 

He let her cry into him, and Claire balled her hands into his chest, burying her face in his shoulder as she felt her knees give out. He picked her up easily, like he had that first day, and made his way over to a tree next to the fire to sit with her curled up in his lap. 

Eventually she felt the tears slow, and she hiccupped a bit before pulling back to look at him. “Want to talk about?” He asked her, his voice low and soft in her ear. 

She sighed and shook her head before looking up at him again. “No, but I think I have to,” she whispered. 

He nodded and tucked his hand under her chin to pull her eyes back up to meet his. “You ain’t never gonna have to do nothin’ you don’t want to ever again,” he whispered fiercely. 

Claire felt her eyes well as she looked at the expression on his face, and her heart started to stutter a bit while butterflies filled her belly. She smiled softly and then sighed, leaning back down to tuck her head into the side of his neck. 

Daryl jumped a little at the sound of her soft whisper a few minutes later, and tightened his arms around her as she spoke. “They were the ones who bound me before you found me a few days ago. Horace and Walter. They came across the little cabin I was staying in with my husband and son...” 

Daryl held her tight as she continued her story, resting his head against the side of his cheek. When she finished, he was still for a long moment before sighing. “How long were you with them before I found you?”

She tensed a bit and thought about giving him the answer she gave Michonne before pushing the thought aside. He’d saved her twice now from them alone, he deserved to know. “I lost count after a long time. My guess is about a year and a half?” She whispered, turning her face tighter into his neck. 

She heard the growl rumble up from his chest before it ever left his lips into her hair. “How’d you get away that first time?”

She shuddered a bit and balled her fists tighter into his chest. “Some of those, walkers, I guess you all call them, caught up with us. When they struggled to outrun them, they kicked me back into them, I think as bait. I crawled along as best I could and hid in the bushes, kicking the walkers until suddenly they just turned and moved on. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I honestly wonder if it was a true act of God that kept me alive. I crawled out to see but when I got up to run I slipped and fell. Next thing I remember was waking up to your face.” 

They sat there under the tree together for the rest of the night, Daryl holding her close. Neither of them minded the two dead men not twenty feet away on the other side of the fire. For the first time since the day her son and husband died, when Claire closed her eyes, nothing haunted her in her dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

Claire awoke with a start feeling arms tighten around her. Her head shot up as she struggled, but the arms just tightened further. 

“Shhhhh. It’s ok. It’s me,” Daryl’s voice rumbled in her ear, nose grazing her hair.

She suppressed a shiver at the feel of his gravelly voice rumbling through her skin. “Cold?” He asked, rubbing his hands over her arms as he felt her shiver. 

Her face flamed and she tried to tuck her head into his chest, inhaling deep the scent of leather, sweat, and stale cigarettes. “No, I’m ok,” she whispered softly, closing her eyes and taking one more moment to enjoy the warmth of his arms around her. It had been so long since anyone held her close with anything other than malice behind it, and she soaked it in like a woman starved. 

Pink still stained her cheeks as she raised her head again and sat up in his lap to look at him. “Um, thank you, for yesterday and last night,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. 

Daryl grasped her chin and forced her face back to meet his eyes. “Ain’t nothin’,” he mumbled. His eyes sharpened as they stared into hers, and his grip on her chin became fierce. “You had me the other night, and I’ve got you now. You ain’t alone no more. And I’m learnin’ I ain’t either. So don’t be embarrassed… We’re good.” 

His eyes roved over her expression, drinking in the small smile he saw flicker in her eyes. She bit her lip, but couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging her lips up, and he felt the same silly grin pulling up the corners of his lips in response. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head slightly with a small chuckle. “Ok, but don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my image as the elusive, tough stranger.” 

Daryl snorted with laughter at that, shaking his head, fringes of hair wisps across his forehead. “Yeah well, same goes for you. Gotta protect my image and all, too,” he chuckled. 

She smiled into his eyes a little longer, feeling her body warm as she felt herself falling into those blue gray eyes. Little flecks of gold danced in the background, and the blue hue darkened as he stared back into her greenish-blue eyes. She felt herself being pulled further into him, little butterflies fluttering from her belly up into her heart. The snap of a twig behind them pulled them both out of it with a jerk, and Daryl whipped his head around to see a lone walker approaching slowly in the distance. 

Claire sighed and pulled away from him, rising up to stretch and stand. Daryl hopped up beside her, reaching out to squeeze her hand gently before heading off to put the walker down. She watched him go, and knew she was smiling after him like a damn fool. She hadn’t felt this giddy since her and Jake first started dating, and she knew in an apocalyptic world it was ridiculous to think anything would happen anyways. But still, she couldn’t ignore the little wings still fluttering happily in her belly as she looked at him in the distance.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
It took them most of the day to trace their way back to where they were overtaken yesterday. Claire felt sick as she saw what remained of the buck they’d taken down, laying in the stream with three walkers devouring the organs and flesh. Knuckles brushed against hers, and she felt Daryl’s breath against her cheek as he leaned down to whisper into her ear. “C’mon, let’s head back towards camp and see if we come along any fresh tracks.”

They headed back towards the direction they’d left the group, and as the sun started to set they noticed a second set of deer tracks leading them off to the East. Daryl studied the tracks carefully, and was confident they were only half a day behind a doe. 

“Do we follow it or head back?” Claire tilted her head as she knelt down to look at the tracks herself. 

Daryl sighed through his nose and shook his head. “Thinkin’ we should follow the doe, maybe make camp in a hunting blind if we can find one for the night.” 

Claire nodded in agreement, brushing her fingertips over his wrist as she passed him to head down the trail after the deer. Daryl decided he liked the little flutter her fingertips sent through him. She made him feel warm and tingly and happier than he’d been since he lost Beth. Yes, indeed. Daryl liked it very much. 

They walked for another mile or two and just before the sun dipped over the horizon Claire spotted a clearing in the distance. They stopped together on the edge of the tree line, taking in the rows and rows of withered grape vines circling a small lodge. They watched carefully, but it was clearly overgrown and there were no fresh tracks anywhere around the clearing, from walkers or people. 

“C’mon, let’s clear it and set up for the night.” Daryl led them to the lodge and banged on the door, but nothing moved inside. Checking the handle, the door was left unlocked. Daryl kicked it open and entered, crossbow cocked, sweeping the room. The lodge itself consisted of one large room with a small couch and recliner chair, some shelving with bottles and canned foods, and a little curtained off area with a small kitchen and a toilet. 

Claire gave a little squeal of excitement after they finished clearing the lodge, and Daryl turned to see her holding three bottles, grinning up at him. “Wine,” she whispered reverently, her smile widening as she walked over and plopped down on the couch. 

He shook his head as he shut and barred the door, before cracking the one window and settling to build a small fire on the floor. As the fire took he glanced over to see Claire had returned from the shelf with a few cans as well. She’d placed one can next to each bottle of wine and was pointing at them and mumbling to herself.

“Ya a’right over there?” He called to her as he walked to the shelf, thankful when he found a little black pot they could use to cook. 

“I’m playing ‘eeny meeny miny moe’ to decide which pairing would be best for dinner,” she giggled, smiling at him over the flames. 

Daryl rolled his eyes and collapsed heavily into the recliner. “When ya decide let me know, I’m starvin’ over here,” he teased, affecting a suffering tone and rolling his eyes at her. 

“I’ve got a red, a white, and a rose over here. Any of them speaking to you?” 

He snorted and shook his head. “Booze is booze,” he said simply, watching her as she intently red the labels of the bottles of wine. “If ya got somethin’ other than beans in one of them cans though, that’s a different story.”

She smiled, proudly raising the can of Spaghetti-O’s and the bottle of Rose to wave at him triumphantly. She tossed him the can. “You make the food. I’ll prep the booze.” She winked as she walked over to the shelf in search of a wine opener, and Daryl felt his cheeks turn a little pink as he set to work on the can.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Taste’s like peaches, to me,” he mumbled at her. By now they were finished with the Spaghetti-O’s and working on their second bottle of wine, sitting together cross legged on the floor next to the fire. 

Claire held the bottle to the light and read it over. “Should be.. let’s see.. Notes of apricot and citrus.” She sighed wearily at him, rolling her eyes. “Such a simple pallet would probably only pick up on peaches, though,” she winked at him. 

Daryl would later blame the booze for what he did next, but he knew better. Ever since their warm exchange this morning, and after feeling all the little soft touches of hers throughout the day, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her again. So when she raised the bottle to her lips, eyes glinting mischievously after swallowing a large sip, and asked if he wanted to play a game of truth or dare, he found himself agreeing whole-heartedly. 

“You first,” he said as he reached for the bottle, voice rough like sandpaper. 

“Hmmm.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes, a playful smile tugging her lips and dancing in her eyes with the firelight. “Truth, I think.”

Daryl nodded, passing her back the bottle. “How’d y’get to be so good with them knives?”

She smiled, taking a healthy swig once again. She bit her lip as she looked down at the bottle in her hands, before lifting her head to meet his eyes. “I was a Chef, before that profession ceased to exist.”

He raised his eyebrows as he nodded, reaching to take the bottle back and down some more wine. “Explain’s the knives and the dinner pairings, I reckon,” he said gruffly. 

She giggled softly, and he felt his belly warm with the sound, thinking that he’d very much like to hear that more often. “I suppose it does. Now your turn. Truth or Dare?” 

He grunted as he tilted his head, eyeing her up and down. She smiled wider and her eyes sparkled a bit more as she tilted her head back at him. “Sizing me up?”

He flicked his eyebrows as he smirked, taking another sip of wine before passing the bottle back to her. “Truth.”

She sighed, leaning back on her hands, tilting her head at him. She smirked, raising her eyebrows. “Hmmm, let’s see…” She chewed her lip, and Daryl thought he could almost see the wheels turning as she flipped through potential questions her mind. When her eyes suddenly softened and she looked a bit hesitant, he felt both excited and sick. Shit he thought. Please don’t ask me anything about- 

“Who was Beth?” She asked softly, and the pit in his stomach grew. 

Daryl reached for the bottle forcefully and took a large gulp before pushing it back to her. He closed his eyes and sighed before opening them to study his hands. “She was Maggie’s younger sister. I ended up with her alone after some shit went down, and it was my job to protect her…” He swallowed before forcing the rest out. “Some people took her. By the time I found her she was changed. She was shot as we were leaving. She—I—It was my job to protect her…” Daryl trailed off, his voice breaking in anguish. 

“Were you in love?” She asked quietly, eyes soft with concern as she reached out to gently squeeze the hand he was resting on his knee. 

He shook his head, and she could see the sincerity and pain in his eyes. “She was what was still good in this world though, and I failed to protect it.” He swallowed, and as Claire started to pull her hand back he reached out and grabbed it, squeezing hard and resting their hands on his knee. 

“Your turn,” he said gruffly, eyes trained on the fire crackling next to them. 

“Truth,” she whispered back. 

“Do you still miss your husband and kid?”

She smiled sadly, looking away from his piercing eyes and down to their clasped hands. She sighed heavily, and Daryl could see the weight of the world resting on this delicate shoulders. “I miss Peter, my son, so much it aches. I see him in the sunrise, in the butterflies, in the way the wind ripples leaves on the trees. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of the boy that he was, the man he could have been… But to be honest, I think maybe God blessed him by taking him out of this world and up to heaven. Because my sweet boy was far to gentle for this kind of a world, and I never wanted this kind of life for him.” Daryl watched her wipe a tear away before shaking her head and he squeezed her hand tighter. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Don’t need to feel guilty for wantin’ a better life for your kids.”

She swallowed and nodded tearfully before raising her eyes back to his. “You asked about my husband, too. Jake—that’s a bit of a different story. I loved him, sure, and I was committed to spending the rest of my life with him. But Jake wasn’t really meant for this world either, and pretty early on after we set up at our cabin it was clear we were just together to survive, and to keep Peter alive. So we focused on that, on Peter. Do I miss him? Some, but not the way I would have before this all happened. Maybe not the way a wife, or the love of his life, should have. I think we stopped being in love a long time ago, though. Honestly, I don’t even think he’d look twice at the woman I am now.” She smiled sadly at him before glancing over to the fire.

Daryl nodded slowly, taking in her words. He could see the sadness and regret in her, but something else was hiding in the back of her eyes too. Her thumb was slowly circling his knuckle, and the butterflies returned to beat in his chest full force. He swallowed and mumbled gruffly to her. “I’m lookin’.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> I’m the author of this story. The Walking Dead is the source of the original work. I don’t know Daryl Dixon, do not own the character Daryl Dixon, and do not mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. The lyrics in this chapter are from two songs: Take Me to Church by Hozier, and Lost Boy by Ruth B. I do not claim to have any rights to the lyrics. They are far too brilliant to have come from me. This story is simply intended for enjoyment of the readers. Please don’t sue me!

Claire giggled, downing another large sip of wine. “Why, Daryl Dixon, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me,” she said saucily, tossing her hair and smiling fully at him.

He snorted, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “I ain’t a flirt,” he said gruffly, eyes glinting in the firelight.

Claire’s smile spread as she caught the growing flush spreading over his cheeks. “Truth or dare?” She asked, eyebrow raising, challenging him.

Daryl hummed low in his throat, tilting his head to look at her. “Dare,” he said boldly, raising his eyebrow in response. 

Claire made a big production of stroking her finger across her chin, biting her lip as she tried to think of something good. “Hmmm… Sing me a few lines of your favorite song.”

Daryl huffed, and mildly looked like he might be sick, while Claire giggled and smirked at him. “Can’t sing for shit,” he grumbled, reaching to down the rest of the second bottle of wine. 

“Don’t matter,” she taunted. “Dare’s a dare, Mr. Dixon.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Daryl felt his cheeks turn pink as his heart lurched in his chest. Hearing his name come out of her saucy mouth like that, lilting and teasing, sent a whole host of heat rushing straight to his groin, and he wanted nothing more than to yank her close and kiss that teasing smile right off her damn mouth. His mind raced as he tried to think of not only a song he could sing, but a song that would shut her up and wipe that damn grin off her face. 

His eyes glinted as he popped open the last bottle of wine and started to sing. 

“My lover's got humour  
She's the giggle at a funeral  
Knows everybody's disapproval  
I should've worshipped her sooner  
If the Heavens ever did speak  
She is the last true mouthpiece  
Every Sunday's getting more bleak  
A fresh poison each week  
'We were born sick, ' you heard them say it  
My church offers no absolutes  
She tells me 'worship in the bedroom'  
The only heaven I'll be sent to  
Is when I'm alone with you  
I was born sick, but I love it  
Command me to be well  
Amen. Amen. Amen..”

She was still giggling, but he watched the way her eyes darkened and fixated on his mouth while he softly sang to her. As he finished, he raised the bottle and toasted to her before taking a big sip and passing it over to her. He couldn’t help the little swell of pride he felt at how pink her cheeks were when she realized he’d caught her staring at his lips. 

“Hmph, that’s what I thought,” he rasped, licking his lips as she took a long drink. “Truth or dare?”

She was blushing furiously now, Claire could feel it. She felt like her whole body was on fire, and there was no denying the heat pooling low in her belly. Hell, to be honest, she knew there was a lot more than heat going on down there. She was damp, drunk off of Daryl Dixon’s raspy, gruff, slightly off key and sexy as hell singing. The man was an enigma, a rubix cube she was desperate to line up and solve. 

And he was smirking at her, eyes shining as though he knew how he was affecting her, the shivers he was sending through her, dancing in her belly. She took a second swig, settling her nerves. “Alright, Mr. Dixon,” she drawled, gaining confidence as she saw his eyes darken once again from the way she rolled out his name, teasing and full of promise. “Dare.”

He snorted at that, reaching for the bottle and tilting his head to study her, mirroring her earlier pose. And before he could question it or change his mind, the words tumbled out of his mouth, rough and heavy and full of desire. “Kiss me.” 

Her jaw dropped at that, and Claire swore she was redder than a tomato at this point, feeling the heat spread from the tips of her ears to the tops of her breasts. The thought of refusing flashed through her mind before it flitted into the flames. Despite her reserve, despite all she’d been through, hell all they’d been through, and despite the fact that the mysterious man in front of her was little more than a stranger, she wanted this. She wanted to feel the scratch of his chapped lips against her own, wanted to feel the strength of his arms around her again, wanted to feel like a woman was supposed to feel around a man. So she found herself crawling across the floor on her knees, eyes sparkling as she slowly crawled straight up between his legs and into his lap, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against his. 

Daryl meant for it to be a gentle kiss, little more than soft peck, but the fire in her eyes as she crawled over to him, and the sheen of sweat visible on the tops of her breasts beneath her shirt sent all thoughts flying straight through the cracked window. Her lips were soft and full, gently teasing as the slid across his, her tongue poking out to lick the corner of his lips sending a jolt straight down to his rapidly growing erection. He followed her lead, sending his tongue out to barely brush against hers, and felt a sense of satisfaction when she sighed, opening her mouth to him further. 

Daryl loved the way she played and teased while she kissed, hell he couldn’t get enough of it. She was slipping her tongue along with his, lips brushing, pushing in a sexy dance. His hands curled into the floor as he fought the urge to reach up and wind his fingers into her soft hair, not wanting to push or take things too fast. But when she caught his bottom lip between her teeth, lightly nipping before pulling back to sexily smile into his eyes, he couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips. 

She hummed as she leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek before whispering in his ear. “Mmmm… My thoughts exactly.” And then she was pulling away from him, sitting back on her heals as she lifted the bottle of wine and took a long sip, eyes glittering and never leaving his. 

A clanging outside the door jerked them back to the present, pulling them out of their warm little world and into the cold light of reality. He could hear the walkers shuffling outside the door, groaning as they clawed to get in. 

She was pale, all traces of teasing gone in the hard set of her face. Daryl sighed, sad that the bubble burst so soon, sad to see her retreat back into her shell once again. “Think they’ll move along on their own?” She asked him, eyes never leaving the door.

“Think so, but we should probably cut the fire and shut the window to be safe,” he rumbled, voice still heavy and deep from arousal.

She nodded, shutting the window as he killed the fire, sending the room abruptly into darkness. He heard her make her way carefully to the couch, swaying slightly on her feet from all the wine. Daryl sighed, settling down into the armchair to catch a few hours sleep for the night.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was running, watching the dust settle as the car careened around the corner and out of his view once again. He sprinted as fast as he could, but by the time he caught the corner not even the taillights were in sight. His chest heaved as he collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down his face. 

“Claire!” He screamed, dropping his arms and raising his face to the sky. “Not again! How could you do this to me? How could you take her too?” He sobbed, tears spilling down his cheeks as the skies opened and rain started to pour.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Claire! Claire!” Daryl mumbled, tossing and turning on the chair.

She jumped off the couch, cursing as her head swayed and the world tilted slightly to the left. She pushed her hand to her head as she ambled over to him, taking his hand gently as she sat on the arm of the recliner and started to sing. 

"Run, run, lost boy," they say to me,  
"Away from all of reality."

Neverland is home to lost boys like me  
And lost boys like me are free.”

She sang his lullaby softly to him, holding his hand and lightly brushing her hands through his hair, hopeful she could bring him some comfort and ease his pain. Daryl’s eyes shot open on a gasp, and he stared widely at her face, hand tightening to the point of pain around hers, crushing her knuckles together.

“You’re here,” he breathed, yanking her off the arm of the chair and into his lap before crushing her to his chest. 

Claire fought the wave of dizziness and nausea as she wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his chest and whispering to him. “I’m here, Daryl. I’m right here. You’re not alone, I’m here.” 

He forced in a few shaky breaths, body clenching around her, tears streaming silently down his face and landing in her hair. She reached her hand up as she felt a drop land on her nose, making a little moan of pain as she felt the wetness on his cheeks. “Oh, Daryl,” she whispered, sliding up to wrap her arms around him and bring his face to her chest. “Don’t you have nightmares about me anymore, you hear me? You don’t have to worry about me. I’m here. I’m right here beside you. And I’m not going anywhere unless you’re with me. Never again.” She whispered things into his ear, holding him tight until she felt his breathing slow and the tears stopped falling. 

“Now get some sleep,” she whispered, starting to pull back and slip out of the chair. Before she could leave his chest he gripped her tighter, eyes fiercely bright in the moonlight. 

“Stay,” he rasped, voice gritty like sandpaper. 

She settled back down into his arms, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her body around his. As he started to drift back to sleep, he heard her whisper softly into his chest. “Always.”


	7. Chapter 7

Claire woke in the armchair alone, whipping around with wild eyes until she saw Daryl peaking out through the window. She struggled to calm her racing heart and steady her breathing as her eyes glided over his muscular frame. The pounding that replaced her lightheadedness suddenly forced last night into the forefront of her brain, and she flushed as her skin started tingling at thoughts of last night. 

Good Lord, she had kissed him! And it was most certainly not a playful, innocent kiss, either. Her cheeks burned as heat coiled low in her belly, and the wave of desire to kiss him again was almost overwhelming. She huffed a little laugh at herself, freezing as Daryl’s head shot back to look at her on the chair. She bit her lip, her cheeks somehow feeling even redder than before at his intense stare, and at the little half smile he flipped her she felt her stomach somersault. 

“All clear?” She croaked, her voice a little bit husky and a little too breathless. 

He turned towards her fully, smiling so wide his teeth shown in the morning light as he nodded. “Lookin’ good, princess. Let’s get a move on, still gotta find some food and make our way back to the group.”

She nodded, carefully dropping her eyes as she tried to compose herself while she struggled out of the chair to stand and stretch. A smile, unbidden, spread over her lips as she watched the graceful hunter pack up their few belongings and sweep open the door, gesturing broadly with his arm for her to exit ahead of him. She straightened her top as she moved past him, and she couldn’t help but brush her fingers over the hard ridges of his abdomen as she passed, delighting in his sharp intake of breath at her touch. As she smiled triumphantly and moved down the steps, a strong hand caught the wrist connected to her trailing fingertips, yanking her back with such a force she turned and stumbled up into his chest, body pressed flush against his as she looked up in wide-eyed surprise to meet his smirk. 

“Ya forgot somethin’, girl,” he growled, eyes blazing as he looked down at her.

Her eyes clouded with confusion, but before she could question his mouth closed down on hers for gentle kiss. Her hands curled into his shirt on his chest as she kissed him back, tilting her head and opening her mouth to slip her tongue out to lick his lips. With a groan, Daryl opened to her gentle exploration, sliding his tongue along hers and holding her close before suddenly pulling back, delighting at her whimper of protest when his mouth left hers. 

“If I knew that’s all it took to get ya outta ya shell I woulda done that awhile ago,” he taunted her, smirking at the blush on her cheeks while his eyes twinkled. 

She huffed and pulled away, stomping down the steps and then gesturing to him to lead the way. He passed her with a knowing wink and a smirk, heading off into the forest without waiting for her to follow. When her little hand slipped into his a few yards later and she smiled softly ahead, it occurred to Daryl that he’d had it wrong before. He wasn’t bringing her out of her shell as much as she was bringing him out of his. And for the life of him, he couldn’t muster enough of his old self to mind.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The pair returned, much to the bewilderment of their group members, smiling and laughing as they hauled a large buck into camp, lost in a world only the two of them could see. 

“Well, seems like that was quite the trip,” Rick drawled, eyes twinkling as they met Michonne’s across the campfire. 

The sound of Claire’s twinkling laughter drifted through the camp, and Daryl’s rich baritone rumbling in response caused more than a few to rise eyebrows and bite back smiles at the pair as they skinned and prepped the deer for dinner. 

“Glad your back,” Rick called to Daryl as Claire left to go wash up with Maggie and Michonne. 

Daryl grunted and nodded, butchering the rest of the deer for the spits. 

“Took you longer than we thought it might. You run into any trouble?” Rick drawled, reaching to help with the rest of the meat. 

Daryl shook his head, wiping his blade off in the grass after finishing the last of it. “Nothin’ we couldn’t handle,” he mumbled, clapping Rick on the back as he turned to go wash up while the venison cooked on the fire. 

“I can only imagine,” Rick called behind him, smirking as he carried the spits to Carol, who was glowering at Daryl’s back as he stalked off towards the stream they’d found. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” Rick asked her with a questioning gaze as the venison started to sizzle over the flames. 

Carol shook her head, not quite meeting Rick’s gaze. “Just wondering why the two of them are so close all of a sudden, laughing and carrying on while they’d scared the rest of us half to death with how long they were gone.” 

Daryl watched her shrewdly, tilting his head as she spook. “The way I see it? Not a lot out there worth smiling about anymore. So the fact that they found something, even if it’s just in each other? Well. That’s just short of a damn miracle. And after all this group, and Daryl, has been through?” Rick shook his head, squeezing his shoulder as he turned to find Carl and Judith. “He deserves it.”  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Bellies full in the morning from the rest of the buck, the group packed up and started to move on down the road. Claire hung back a ways when she caught Daryl’s eye and he subtly nodded his head to the woods on their left. Slowing to match his pace, Claire scanned the forest. “What is it?” She whispered out of the side of her mouth.

He shrugged, face carefully blank as his ears pricked. “Might be nothin’. But it could be somethin’.” 

She nodded, hesitantly reaching to twine her fingers with his before pulling her hand back, unsure. He snorted, reaching out to grasp her hand firmly in his, pulling her up to his side. He leaned down until his nose brushed the top of her hair. “I’ll tell Rick we’re checkin’ it out. When you see me step off into the forest, count to ten then follow behind.”

She nodded, confused about the second part of his request as he strolled up to Rick and then headed off the road into the woods. Dutifully, she counted to ten, then broke off to the side, noting Carol’s glare as she saw Claire follow into the bushes after Daryl. 

As she made her way through the brush and into the trees, a strong hand clamped over her mouth, making her tense instantly as she bucked against the chest she was pulled up against. “Easy girl, just me,” Daryl whispered softly into her ear, the fight leaving her in a rush as she collapsed back against his chest.

His chuckle sent shivers down his spine as he removed his hand, his breath tickling her cheek as he whispered once again. “What do ya hear?” He asked her, gesturing in front with his crossbow. 

She strained her ears and eyes in the direction he pointed, quickly frustrated as nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just as she was about to huff over her shoulder at him, she heard it. Someone else was walking through the forest, footsteps barely rustling the leaves as they followed their group at a distance, quiet as a mouse. 

Claire paled and her body tensed as her eyes shot up to Daryl’s, a sick feeling sinking into her stomach when she saw his jaw tense and his eyes sharpen. He held a finger to his lips as he slipped around her, gracefully leading them further into the woods as she crept behind him towards the source of the sound. His crossbow drawn, he glanced back and nodded as he saw her raise two of her knives, one ready in each tiny, strong fist. 

Daryl crouched suddenly behind a large oak tree, hand reaching to pull her behind him as they peered around the side. A man who looked about as harmless as a schoolteacher was loading gallon jugs of water into the back of a small car, recently filled from the stream next to him by the looks of it. Scanning quickly, Daryl held his fingers up, making the number two. She nodded, hairs on the back of her neck rising as she strained to hear or see the second person Daryl had identified.

Suddenly, silent steps fell out of the forest less than two yards from their right, and Claire barely muffled a gasp into Daryl’s shoulder as he strolled up to the schoolteacher. 

“So, what do you think of them?” The schoolteacher asked as his companion sidled up to the side of the car. 

The second man shrugged, crossing his arms. “They seem harmless enough, got a kid and a baby, mostly women. Two of them, man and a woman, broke off and headed this way, but I lost them somewhere.” Although his voice was firm and kind, Claire couldn’t help but tighten her fingers into Daryl’s bicep. 

The schoolteacher shrugged, slamming the trunk shut as the both walked around to climb into the car. “Think we should invite them?” He asked his companion.

He shook his head thoughtfully, swinging into the passenger seat. “Nah, not yet. We should watch a little longer first, make sure they’re really safe.” 

Leaves crunched as the car rumbled and pulled off down the grass, winding out of sight until Daryl heard gravel crunching in the distance.

“What the hell was that about?” Claire whispered into his shoulder, holding his arm tight. 

Daryl shook his head, slowly rising from the crouch and pulling her up behind him. “No idea, but I mean to find out,” he answered grimly, face hard as they turned and made their way back to the others on the main road.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story doesn't seem to be quite as popular as the other Walking Dead fanfics I've posted, but I've really enjoyed writing it and wanted to take the opportunity to thank all of you who are reading! If you have any requests/thoughts/suggestions please feel free to share in the comments or send me a message! Thanks! :)

As Claire and Daryl began to creep back through the forest in the direction of their group a loud rumble sounded over their shoulders in the distance. Claire sighed wearily as they continued to pace through the brush. Turning her head up to the sky, she thought she could just barely see the overcast color of the sky above the treetops.

“Smells like rain,” Daryl mumbled beside her, reaching to help her over a fallen log as they tried to leave as few tracks as possible for those men to follow later. 

“I know I should be grateful for the water source, but honestly, I’m sick to death of being cold and wet,” she sighed, trudging forward as she listened to another peal of thunder echo in the distance. 

Daryl grunted in agreement before he quickly peeled off to the left, turning to head further into the woods.

Claire groaned audibly and cocked her hip as she called to him. “Where are you going now, Mr. Dixon?”

He didn’t bother to slow his steps or turn his head as he pointed ahead of him. “This way, obviously.”

She snorted and turned to follow after him, quickening her steps as the next crack of thunder sounded closer overhead. She was watching a honey bee flying on her right, trying to see if she could see the hive, when she walked smack into a wall of muscle. Claire reached out to steady herself as the wall chuckled in front of her. “Watch where ya goin’, woman,” he teased her, before stepping aside so she could see what had brought him to a halt. 

A big red barn, long since abandoned, stood proudly a few yards away. There were no fresh tracks anywhere around as far as she could see, and the thought of escaping from another storm made Claire giggle with glee. “Think it’s safe?” She asked softly as she continued to scan the woods.

“Don’t see no tracks. Might be. Think we should clear it first, or just get back and get the others?”

She pursed her lips as she considered before she nodded her chin forward. “Clear it quick, in case it’s not as safe as we think, then rush back to get the rest of them.”

He nodded, motioning for her to take the lead as the crept up to the front doors of the barn. Daryl rapped loudly a few times and whistled, but neither heard any moaning or shuffling inside. As he threw open the doors and the scanned the open space, they quickly realized it was well and truly abandoned. They threw the doors back shut and started to jog through the woods towards where he thought the others would be by now on the road, cognizant of the increasing rumbling overhead and the threat of a downpour.

Just as they burst through the tree line and started to jog down the road towards where the group was resting, the skies opened up overhead, soaking them to the skin in seconds. “C’mon,” Daryl yelled as he continued to jog towards the others, waving with his arm to gesture behind him. 

The looks on the faces in front of them gave Claire pause as they approached. They looked…angry. Rick strode up, face hard and eyes glinting furiously. “Where the hell have you two been?” He shouted angrily.

That pulled Daryl up short, and his jaw dropped open in bewilderment at Rick’s fury. “What d’ya mean? What’s it matter, anyway? We found shelter back this way, hurry up and let’s get goin’!” 

Rick pointed behind him a ways down the road. “Someone’s watchin’ us, Daryl. We thought the two of you coulda been taken, or killed,” he said grimly as he motioned for the others to get up and start moving back towards where Daryl had pointed.

Claire looked over Rick’s shoulder and felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach, bile rising to the back of her throat. On the road about ten yards away, there sat dozens of gallon jugs filled to the brim with water. The same jugs, she knew, that they’d seen those two men fill earlier at the creek.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
They sat around a fire in the barn a short while later, everyone wringing out clothes and trying to warm up and get dry. Rick and Daryl were in a heated discussion about the men they’d seen earlier and the jugs of water, Daryl relaying everything him and Claire had overheard. 

Rick was of the mindset that once the storm broke they should start to patrol around and see if they can capture the spies, while Michonne thought it was possible they might be good people who actually wanted to help. Carol thought it was too dangerous for Daryl to go out alone but Claire was too unstable to help him, while Carl offered to lead the patrols himself. 

Claire had no idea what to think as she sat off a ways in the corner of the barn furthest away from the others and the fire. Was it possible there were good people in this world? Of course. If there weren’t Claire wouldn’t be alive today- being taken in by Rick and Daryl and their group taught her that much. But were the odds really that favorable that there was another group that was just as kind and compassionate as Rick’s, to the point where they weren’t just still out there, they were thriving? That, that seemed a little less likely. 

The thought of running into more men like the ones who’d tortured her made a wave of nausea roll through her all over again, and Claire dropped her head to rest on her knees as she shut her eyes to the memories and fears. She didn’t think she could survive another run with those kinds of people, not again, not anymore. And she didn’t think she’d ever forgive herself if she let anyone in this group experience that, either.

The sound of Daryl’s soft footsteps padding towards her across the wooden floor caused Claire’s belly to flutter, and as he dropped down to sit next to her against the wall she felt goose bumps raise on her arm where his lightly rested against it. She sighed heavily and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, smiling when he tilted to rest his on top of hers. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, senses swirling with the scent of him, soothing her fears even in the middle of a thunderstorm with the threat of possible capture and death looming overhead. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He grumbled softly as he gently nudged her knee with his, reaching to clasp her hand and rest it on his thigh under his. 

She sighed again, turning to nuzzle his neck with her nose. “I think we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t on this one,” she whispered into his clavicle. 

“Mmm” he rumbled. He slowly started to trace the back of her hands with his thumb, weaving it in and out of her knuckles. He turned her hand over and softly started to tickle her palm with the tips of his fingers, before he finally laced them through hers to hold his hand. 

Claire didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she sucked in a shaky one. She bit her lip to hide her smile as she realized with a tinge of embarrassment that even his light caresses on her palm were making her damp with want. “What do you think?” She asked to distract her lustful thoughts.

“Mmm.. M’thinkin’, if I got somethin’ as good as all a few of them think it is, then why would I advertise, why I would I share it? So, it’s either gotta be somethin’ bad, or it’s gotta be run by idiots. Don’t know for sure which is worse.”

She chuckled softly and gently bumped his shoulder with hers. “Why, Daryl Dixon,” she teased. “You must have been a strategic genius in your other life.” 

He snorted and tilted his head to catch her eyes in the light of the fire. “Good thing we ain’t found a game of Monopoly then, woman, I’d kick your ass in a hot second.”

She erupted into a fit of giggles at that before leaning in to press her lips gently against his cheek. “Maybe I’m just biding my time until I make my move,” she whispered softly in his ear, before pulling back to smile up at him again from his shoulder.

His face sobered at that, and his eyes were suddenly serious as they met hers. “Don’t wait too long, darlin’. Ain’t got a whole lot of time for nothin’ anymore, not in this world,” he said seriously. 

She swallowed heavily, having the distinct dizzying feeling that they were talking about a whole lot more than Monopoly, and Claire wasn’t sure she was quite ready for this conversation. She didn’t really know what was happening between her and Daryl Dixon, but she knew that for the first time in years he had made her feel safe, wanted, happy, and just a little bit carefree. And she wasn’t ready to lose that yet. 

As she tried to come up with an appropriate response, a loud bang jolted the barn doors, and the sickening moans of walkers echoed into the barn, chasing away the warmth and leaving a chill of fear in its wake. Daryl didn’t hesitate for a second, and he bolted up and slammed his body against the doors as he tried to stop the onslaught of walkers forcing their way into the barn. Claire collapsed against the door in a rush beside him, digging in her toes to push as hard as she could to keep it shut. She felt rather than saw the others pack in around them, and soon the entire group was propped up against the barn doors, struggling with the dead while the storm raged through the night.


	9. Chapter 9

She woke wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, curled on the barn floor with his back flush against the door. Sunlight was peaking through the slats in the roof, illuminating tendrils of dust as they floated about the room. She raised her head from his thigh slightly and looked around, seeing the others littered around the floor, just starting to stir.

“Can sleep a bit more, if ya want,” a familiar voice rumbled softly behind her, reaching to gently push her head back down on his thigh.

“Mmm,” she hummed sleepily. “Not sure I can sleep more, but I wouldn’t mind pretending for a little bit.”

He ran his fingers through her hair as he shuffled a bit and resettled against the door. “Y’can pretend as long as ya want.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, the sound of his soft breathing lulling her into relaxation as she pretended for a little while longer that the world hadn’t gone to shit and she wasn’t covered in it lying on a barn floor, having barely survived the night. 

“Everyone up. We need to start patrolling immediately,” Rick practically yelled from the center of the barn, pulling her with a harsh jolt out of her thoughts and back to the present. She sighed, stretching her arms as she pulled herself up to sit next to Daryl, leaning her back against the door. 

She bumped his shoulder gently with hers. “Partner with me?”

He bumped her shoulder back. “D’ya even have ta ask?”

She grinned widely up at him before pushing up to stand and reaching down to help him up next to her. He held on to her hand a bit longer and squeezed her fingers before letting go and grabbing his crossbow, slinging it up to aim. He nodded towards the wood, and she moved to push the latch up, waiting for his signal. Michonne drew her sword and Glenn and Maggie came up behind with knives drawn, all nodding in agreement. With a deep breath, Claire heaved the latch up and pushed the door open wide.

The footprints and bits of blood and decay smearing the ground were the only indication of the herd of walkers they’d faced the night before. They broke into groups and walked into the forest in different directions, searching for either more dead or the two living Claire knew probably watched them struggle all night from a distance. 

Her and Daryl picked their way back towards the creek where they’d first seen the car, but couldn’t find any tracks to pick up and indicate which direction they’d headed, and whether or not they’d been back. As she knelt to rinse her face in the water, she heard him kick a rock behind her in frustration, skipping it into the stream.

As she rose she cupped her hands and flung some water right into his face, giggling when he gave her a clearly stunned expression. She took off at a run back towards the barn, shrieking with laughter as his hand snaked out to catch her and his body pinned her towards the nearest tree. His eyes were shining down into hers and he smiled wryly as she giggled and struggled to break free. 

She huffed, chest heaving and smiled. “Fine! You win. You caught me.”

He chuckled a bit and leaned in closer to her chest, smiling. He breath caught as she raised her head to meet his gaze as he towered over her. “Gonna getcha for that later,” his voice was rough, like gravel as he pushed himself against her a bit before pulling back and releasing his hold on her wrists.

“Can’t wait,” she teased, eyes twinkling as she watched his eyes darken while he shook his head. 

“G’on then, girl.” 

She smirked and turned leading them back through the forest towards the barn.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
She sat in the corner of the barn, listening as the man, Aaron, explained one more time about their camp and all they had to offer, even showing them pictures.

“I still don’t understand why you’re telling us, what you want with us,” Rick was practically yelling as he stared harshly at him. Claire could see the bruise starting to color in on Aaron’s cheek from where he was hit earlier when he’d first walked into the barn. 

Aaron just smiled patiently once again. “We have a great compound, a home where children can play in the streets and people picnic and watch the sunset. It’s sustainable, it’s enclosed, it’s safe. And we’d like to believe there are still good people out there who we can share this with. We’ve been watching you, watching how you all look out for each other, how you all work together. We think you’d be a good fit.”

Rick looked at Daryl, Carol, Glenn and Maggie in turn, asking their opinion. He saw some nods, other shakes, and he finally rested his gaze on Michonne. “If we don’t like it, we could always leave,” she said quietly with a shrug.

“Why don’t you tell us where it is, and we will come when we’re ready?” Michonne questioned. 

“Look at this map. There are two ways to get there, this way much safer. You’ll understand my reluctance to just tell you where our camp is, given we need to keep it safe. I’ll lead you there, we have a camper and a car and we should be able to fit you all.” Aaron’s smile seemed genuine, and Claire was inclined to believe him.

Daryl stalked over to her, reaching down to pull her to her feet. “Watcha think?” He asked softly.

She tilted her head and watched Aaron answer some more questions from a few of the others. She sighed heavily, turning to meet his gaze. “If you go, I go,” she said simply. 

He nodded, turning to watch Glenn and Maggie look through the pictures with excitement. “F’we don’ like it, then..”

“Then we’ll do what it takes to get out and survive, and bring as many with us as we can.”

He nodded, shooting her a grim look before strolling back to Rick with a sharp nod. Rick sighed, shoulders dipping in defeat. 

They were headed to Alexandria.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Claire found herself walking down a wide street in a neighborhood the next day, making her way back from her “interview” with their leader. The sun was starting to set as she walked up the front porch steps of the first of two houses the group had been given, and she saw Daryl light up in the corner of the porch behind the swing. 

She gave him a lazy smile as she walked around to see him, plopping on the swing and starting to rock as he blew out a puff of smoke and watched others move around in the streets in the distance. 

“Watcha think, now?” He asked softly, voice rough with smoke.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head. “I think I’ve still got my knives, you’ve still got your bow, and we’re still alive. So we’re doing alright so far.”

He snorted at that and shook his head, blowing out another stream of smoke before snuffing out his cigarette and flicking it into the grass. She patted the porch swing next to her and slid closer to him as he sat beside her, tucking her head against his shoulder. “What do you think, Daryl?”

He shifted beside her, bringing an arm to rest around her shoulder and pulling her into his side so her head was up near her neck. He leaned down, whispering into her ear. “I think as long as I got you, I’m gonna be alright from now on,” he said softly as they continued to swing. 

She smiled as she reached for his other hand, twining her fingers through his. “I think so, too.” 

“And I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna eat your brownie as payback for earlier,” he said in a rush as he leapt up and raced through the door, her giggling on his heals as she chased him.

“Don’t you dare!” She yelled as she skittered into the kitchen, jaw dropping when she saw him shove the whole thing in his mouth.

He smiled wide, chomping away and swallowing with a look of pure sin on his face. “Mmm, delicious.” 

She narrowed her eyes and made her way around the counter to smack his arm. A little crumb was hanging on the corner of his mouth, and before she could think she leaned up and pressed her lips there, her tongue coming out to lick it off as she pulled back and watched his eyes widen and his gaze darken. “Mmm,” she hummed, smiling coyly. “Yes. Yes it was.” 

He swallowed hard and started to lean towards her, head dipping as hers tilted up to meet his. The sound of a door slamming made them both jump, and Claire felt her pulse in her ears as her cheeks flushed while Rick and Michonne strolled in. “Good, you’re here. We’re all gonna sleep in the other house tonight. Let’s go.”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and she smiled at him as he practically ran out after Rick and Michonne. With a sigh, Claire followed close behind. “You said not to wait too long to make a move,” she mumbled softly to herself, watching the leather pull across those broad shoulders as he held open the door.

He motioned for her to enter, and as she passed him he leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Gonna getcha for that, too.”

Claire felt his chuckle as her cheeks flushed all the way down to the apex between her thighs as his hand grazed her back while she made her way to a corner to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy! :) Please drop a comment and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!!

Two nights later, Rick reluctantly agreed with Michonne that it was time for them to spread out between the several houses they’d been given. Claire wasn’t sure whether she’d drawn the short straw or was in luck as she turned to look at her new roommates, making out on the couch like they were horny teenagers. Daryl sighed next to her where he lounged against the counter as she made pasta for dinner. “They make me feel old,” he grumbled with a smirk at her, and she flashed him a grin as she sliced up the onion Carol had given her and dropped it into the pan to sizzle. 

“What kinda pasta ya makin’?” He asked her, leaning over her shoulder to scope out the ingredients on the counter. 

“Well, let’s see.” She picked up the jar of pasta sauce she’d gotten from the pantry they had down the street. “It looks like I am making spaghetti with Chunky Garden Veggie Delight sauce,” she raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes as he snorted and shook his head.

“What a treat,” he drawled sarcastically, before leaning with excitement. “Whatcha got there?”

She was pulling a few more ingredients out from where she’d stashed them under the counter, and was holding up a cheap bottle of red wine with a little smirk on her face. 

“Is that wine?” Maggie called from the couch, leaping up as Glenn followed quickly and they slid into the two bar seats at the island. 

Daryl huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes. “Ya didn’t think to hide that so we didn’t have to share?” He teased, eyes glinting down at hers while she chopped up the few herbs she’d gathered and threw them in with the onion simmering. 

Her pasta started to boil over as she poured in the jar of sauce, and she quickly drained it and stirred it all together. 

“Alright!” She said proudly, spreading her arms wide. “Bon Apetite!” 

Glenn and Maggie wolfed down their pasta before snatching up their glasses of wine and tearing up the stairs. “Going to bed early, good night!” Glenn called over his shoulder as he chased her down the hall. 

Claire giggled as she heard the door slam shut and music turn on. She ate with Daryl in comfortable silence before placing the dishes in the sink and starting to wash them. To her delight, he came up beside her with a smile and a dish towel, taking the dishes from her hands to dry. “’M thinkin’ they are on dish duty from now on when you cook. What d’ya say?” 

She giggled, nudging his shoulder with hers as she finished the last bowl. “I’m thinking that’s a fine idea, Mister Dixon,” she teased, chuckling as he rolled his eyes and placed the last clean bowl on the counter. 

As he reached for the wine glasses to wash them, she shook her head and wagged her finger, eyes sparkling up at him. “And where are you going with those?” 

He shot her a questioning look while she reached into the cabinet and pulled out a second bottle of wine, this one a nice Reisling. His grin was practically wolfish as he reached over to uncork it. “You didn’t think I’d really only grab one bottle with those two around, did you?” She teased, batting her eyes at him. 

“Ya had me worried, I’ll admit,” he said with a grin, handing her a now very full glass of wine before taking her other hand in his and pulling her towards the back of the house and out onto the patio. 

“Daryl,” she breathed, looking at the candles sparkling around a wicker patio couch he’d cushioned with a few thick blankets. 

“Ya ain’t the only one with surprises,” he said proudly, pulling her towards the couch. 

He reclined on the corner and threw his arm around her shoulder, pulling her up to his side as she rested her head on the inside of his shoulder and tucked her feet up, knees curling as she cuddled into his side. “Why, Mr. Dixon,” she teased a bit breathlessly. “Are you trying to wine and dine me?” 

He snorted, his shaggy hair shaking as he shook his head and leaned down to lightly bump his forehead against her. “Ain’t you the one wine’n ‘n dinin’ me, girl?” He drawled, clinking his glass as proof against hers. 

She giggled, leaning her head back to look up at the stars as she took a long sip of her wine. “Why, I suppose I am,” she said with a smile. She licked her lips and then turned to look up at him. “Then what is it you’re doing?” 

He smiled a bit bashfully as he shrugged his shoulders. “Don’ really know, t’be honest.” His confidence faltered a bit as he turned down to look her in the eyes. “D’ya like it?”

She smiled wide, eyes sparkling as she nodded her head and leaned up to cup his cheek gently. “Very much,” she whispered, before pulling his head down to hers. 

He tasted like wine, smoke, and the woods, and as he parted her lips and his tongue slid in to dance with hers, she decided she’d never tasted anything better in her entire life. He was heat and fire, rolling into her as she held his cheek and kissed him back, pouring everything she had into it while she felt herself falling into the flames. His hand reached for her glass and pulled it from her fingers, and before she knew it he’d pulled her flush against his chest, holding tight with one arm while his hand buried itself in her hair, pulling her head up to his as his lips ravished hers. 

His tongue and teeth grazed over her jaw and down her neck, nips and licks setting her skin on fire. “Daryl,” she breathed into his ear with a moan as he sucked her pulse point and smoothed it with a long lick. 

Her head was spinning, arms shaking as she held on while he kissed his way back up to her lips, claiming them in a bruising kiss with his own. “Claire,” he groaned her name like a prayer as he pulled back for air before diving in for more. His tongue was thrusting into her now, and as she slid hers against his she closed her lips around to lightly suck when he started to retreat. 

His entire body shuddered while a growl tore out of his chest and his hands flexed tightly as they held onto her lips. She was panting as he pulled his head back to look into her eyes, his gaze hot and hooded beneath thick lashes. “We should probably stop,” he breathed, voice like sandpaper and sending shivers down her spine. 

“Yes,” she said with a moan, before sliding her hands back up his chest to fist in his hair and pull his lips back to hers.

She was hungry, starving, and her lips devoured his before sliding down to pepper kisses along the thick muscle of his neck. As she licked her way up to his ear and grazed his earlobe with her teeth, he groaned low and squeezed so tight she was sure her hips would be bruised in the morning. “Claire,” his voice was taunt, laced with need as he said her name like a prayer. 

“I know,” she whispered, pressing her face against his cheek before leaning back to rest her forehead against his as she pressed her eyes shut. “I know,” she said again, before pulling back to rest her hands on his chest as she looked into his eyes. 

That was the moment, she’d reflect later. That was when she knew she couldn’t just get up and walk away. That was when she knew that she was his and she’d do whatever it took for him to be hers.

His eyes were stormy with heat and need, his face almost pained with how much he wanted her. He clenched his jaw, tight muscles flexing as he fought for control. “Don’t wanna rush ya,” he said quietly, and the gravelly tone made her head float up in the clouds. 

“Daryl?” She said softly, fighting against the spinning in her head and the ache between her legs.

He hummed in response, and she could see the desperation in his eyes as he tried to hold on. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her eyes looked into his. “Take me to bed?” 

He visibly shuttered, his muscles flexing and pulling while his fingers tightened and released on her hips. “Whose?” he forced out, sounding almost pained. They hadn’t talked about this since they were moved into this house earlier, hadn’t discussed whether there would be a his room, a her room, or just one for the two of them.

She swallowed, sliding a hand back up his chest to tangle in his hair and force his eyes to hers. “Ours,” she whispered softly, need in her eyes as she stared up at him.

His smile was almost feral as he stood and pulled her along while he blew out the candles. As he led her into the house, locking up and double-checking all the doors and windows while she waited by the stairs, he looked almost predatory, all long limbs tight with muscle and grace. Finally, with everything secure, he walked slowly up to her, eyes glinting and a small smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, he leaned down to hook his arm under her legs while the other came around her back, and he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs and down the hall, kicking open the door as he leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I would never leave you hanging on the smut. Next chapter will pick up right where we left off! ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who followed this story and left kudos and comments. I hope you enjoy this last chapter! It has been a pleasure to write, and I do hope you will consider reading other stories of mine if you enjoyed this one! :)
> 
> Happy Friday!

Claire giggled against his lips as she heard him kick the door shut with his booted foot, before he spun around quickly, dropping her legs to the floor and pressing her back up against the door. “Somethin’ funny about my kisses?” He teased her, raspy voice shooting straight down to her clit. 

She smiled slyly at him, winding her fingers through his hair as she pulled his head close to hers. “Hmm, not sure. Going to need a few more before I form an opinion.” As his lips parted Claire’s teeth shot out, closing in to nip on his bottom lip before she pulled back with a smile. His groan as her teeth slid over his lip made tingles spread all down her arms and legs, and before she could blink he had picked her up by her waist, spreading her legs so they wrapped around him as he crushed her against the door. 

“Ain’t gonna make it to the bed like that, girl,” he warned her, eyes darkening with lust and promise as she arched her back and ground her hips into his. 

“I didn’t say we needed to,” she whispered back, swallowing thickly before his lips came crashing down on hers. His kisses were bruising and forceful as his tongue swept in to devour her mouth. She fisted her hands in the thick muscles bunching on his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him as he pressed her hard into the door. Squeezing her legs and locking her ankles tight behind him, she felt his hands start to slide up under the hem of her shirt, pulling it up with him as his rough calloused fingers spanned her sensitive skin. 

He broke the kiss for an instant to flip her shirt up over her head, tossing it behind him, before his lips came back down to leave a trail of heated kisses from her ear lobe to the corner of her neck where it met her shoulder. Claire tossed her head back against the door with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut as she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his back. She shifted against him in frustration, desperate for more friction, as his kisses on her neck turned to nips that had her moaning and arching for more. Two rough thumbs brushed over her nipples and Claire cried out in pleasure, mind spinning into a frenzy as she realized she didn’t even know when she’d lost her bra. Fiery kisses trailed over her chest, until he caught one nipple between his teeth, rolling it into a pebble with his tongue.

Claire ground her hips against his, exclaiming a mixture of moans and sighs as she felt herself falling apart under his lips, his teeth, his hands. Her mind was spinning, her thighs starting to shake, and she tugged him closer with demand as she pushed her body into his. 

Daryl chuckled, raising his head to peak up at her from beneath the fringe of his hair. “Don’ hear ya laughin’ now,” he rumbled as he gently set her feet back on the floor while he opened his mouth, trailing the tips of his teeth down her thin abdomen to her navel, where he paused to swipe is tongue. Claire’s hand rested in his hair while the other held on to his shoulder, her knees too weak to support her as she leaned heavily against the door, watching him undo her jeans with heavy lidded eyes. 

He yanked her jeans and panties down roughly in one go, sliding them down her thighs and calves and lifting her by her knees as he stepped on the bottom to pull them off. Pushing her back against the door, he threw one knee over each of his shoulders as he knelt before her, spreading her wide as the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. 

Daryl growled as he nipped up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, pupils blown wide as he saw where she had freshly shaven, leaving her smooth as silk between her thighs. Just as he reached the top of one thigh, he switched to the other, skipping where she wanted him most and chuckling as she bucked against him, desperate to feel him between her legs. As he continued his tortuous circuit of nips and licks, Claire pulled harder on his hair, throwing her head back with abandon. “Daryl, please,” she moaned, tipping her head to the side of her shoulder as she felt his strong fingers spread her lips wide.

In an instant, the entire world faded away as Claire was blinded with pleasure. Daryl licked a long stroke from her core to her clit before plunging two fingers in deep, setting a slow rhythm where he curled his fingers deep within her each time. In time with his fingers his tongue set to work, laving at her clit and sucking it lightly between his teeth each time his fingers curled. In a few short strokes Claire was panting heavily, thighs twitching and tightening on his shoulders, and he sped up his tongue as he worked a third finger in, quickening his pace. In an instant she was screaming his name, body shaking and convalescing as her walls closed around his fingers, squeezing them in while he licked and laved at her clit as she road her release. 

As he pulled back from her and she started to slide down the door he chuckled deeply, shaking his head as he wrapped a strong arm around her waist to keep her standing while his other hand set to work on his jeans. “Oh no, you don’t,” he teased her, eyes twinkling when he saw the dazed smile she gave him. Claire reached up to pull his head down to hers for a kiss as he yanked her up roughly, grabbing on to the backs of her thighs just below the curve of her ass before wrapping her around his waist once more. Just as his lips met hers and he stroked her with his tongue he thrust up and in hard, burying himself to the hilt. Their moans mingled into the night as he plunged into her, pressing his face into her neck as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight while they chased their pleasure. Claire screamed out his name, body shaking and tightening around him almost painfully, and with another deep thrust he was coming apart, grunting as he poured himself into her. 

Without a word, Daryl carried her from the door over to their bed, holding her close as he dropped her onto it and crawled overtop of her. She pulled him in close, tilting her head up to catch his lips once more in a heated kiss, which quickly led to soft sighs and moans and screams in the night. And just as the dawn broke over the sky, they drifted into sleep, for the first time sated as they wrapped up, undone and in love, in each other’s arms.

The End.


End file.
